


Im Not Angry Anymore (Well, Sometimes I Am)

by circusdad



Category: Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Angst, Bernie Taupin is a Good Friend, Elton has problems with his weight, Gen, Homophobia, Implied Cheating, Implied Drug Use, M/M, Slurs, alcohol use, and looks, anger issues, as per usual, as usual, body dysmorphia?, elton doesn't know how to manage it so he breaks things, give him a hug, john reid is a dick, this interviewer is a fucking prick, yes a platform or two is thrown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circusdad/pseuds/circusdad
Summary: Bernie has seen Eltons anger outbursts once or twice. He witnesses one more after an interviewer (and John) is particularly nasty.
Relationships: Elton John & Bernie Taupin, Elton John/John Reid
Kudos: 2





	Im Not Angry Anymore (Well, Sometimes I Am)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's your boy, back at it again with the Elton John rpf, hurt + comfort, stan Bernie fics. I hope you enjoy this one! Leave any comments, they're much appreciated.

Elton sifted through his pairs on glasses. He did so slowly, deliberately, aiming to prolong down his arrival on stage. It made him queasy to think about.

_He'll know I'm not looking at him. He'll get offended- angry! God, what if I look fat? Oh, I_ surely _will. This is going to go wrong, it's all going to go wrong! What if_ it's _obvious? What if he knows about John- what if I have a bruise?_

He felt John staring holes into him, so he grabbed a large pair with purple lenses, pushing them on harshly and adjusting his pinstripe suit.

"Break a leg," John said in passing, going off to talk to a curly haired young man. It just made him more anxious.

_Right when I leave he'll go off with that boy, won't he? Is it because I'm ugly? Am I not good enough? He told me I know 'fuck all' about sex, maybe he just needs someone else to fullfil that part of his life. Maybe I'm just too.. fat. It all comes back to that, doesn't it?_

His imagination ran rampant, and he nearly jumped out his skin when he was tapped on the shoulder.

"Its time for you to come out," a nice lady said. "You've been called."

"Right, 'course. Thank you, dear."

Elton cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses and walking out the door, down a small hall, until he appeared on stage. The crowd infront of him cheered, but it sounded muffled and like vibration. Oh god, interviews were always like this. He could never calm himself- it would always take Bernie's reassurance to slow his heart, but Bernie wasn't here (he was lay on arriving) and John hadn't even though to ask if he was okay. 

Elton wave meekly to the crowd.

He sat down.

"How've you been, Elton," the interviewer asked. He knew vaugely who he was, but he wasn't a reappearing guest on his show so he didn't know him too well.

"Very fine, Richard. Lovely to be here," Elton replied, giving him an awkward smile. He couldn't force himself to look at the mans eyes, sadly. But, he knew he wore a plaid suit and had chestnut hair. He was an American fellow.

The answers Elton gave were witty, flirty, jumbled sentences or short. He stuttered an stumbled over his words, scratching his nose or pulling at his hair. At one point, the man- Richard, pointed out his nervousness, which produced a high-pitched, gaspy giggle that had everyone else laughing with him.

_This is going surprisingly well. Oh, dear, what's going to go wrong? These sorts of things never work in my favour.._

"-was a man who came on the show earlier and proudly proclaimed he was a fag! Dressed the typical way, talked it, too. Funny guy, took us all by surprise though. Im sure he made everyone here put off."

Oh god. He shifted in his seat. This guy had a talk show? Though, I guess most would agree with him, being queer wasn't normal. He was just so used to being around Bernie or John that he sort of forgot that.

"What's wrong, Elton? You look uncomfortable."

"Yes. Don't you think that's a little unkind to say on the telly? That word, I mean."

"I cant help it," Richard laughed out. "They're strange little people! The label queer is very fitting in this case, don't you think?"

Elton hummed, forcing a chuckle out. How would he go about this? He needed to phrase it in a way in which he wasn't suspected of anything, because god knows the hell that would reign on him if anyone found out- expecially if he outed himself on national television. John would surely have his arse if that happened..

He cleared his throat, giggling awkwardly. "Well, I think they're just normal people and all. Jus' different preferences, yeah?"

"Now he's starting to sound like one," Richard said to the audience. They began to laugh, but a few of them pulled irritated expressions. 

_At me or the show runner,_ he thought. He felt his face heat up, whether in anger or embarrassment, he didn't know. Probably both. He- and everyone 'like him'- were just normal people, deserving of respect just like anyone else.

He laughed at the words, nevertheless. The topic changed, and Elton went back to being in his own head, giving standard an borderline flirty responses at times, as per usual.

In time, his thirty minutes in the seat expired, and he was asked, "Would you play us a song?"

"Would you like one of the private ones I sing to you in the bedroom," he asked sweetly, giving a cheeky smile. The room exploded with laughter, and Richard gave his own chuckle, though he was obviously angry about the gay joke.

He ended up singing out 'Your Song', one he'd exaughsted on stages and on shows, but everyone seemed to love it, and they ate it up.

Under the surface, Elton was fuming. He replayed the host's words in his head over and over, and everytime he did, he got angrier and angrier. What gave him the right?! He finished the song, said his goodbyes, and hurried off the stage.

Where he immediately dropped his smile in wake of an angry grimace. He pulled off his ridiculously flashy sunglasses/prescription pair and collapsed into the chair in his dressing room, whipping around to look in his mirror. The fucker had no right to say those kind of things- about _him!_ About anyone. Elton rubbed at his pink rimmed eyes tiredly tossing his glasses on the table haphazardly.

"What are you sulking about," John asked. He looked delighted about something or another, a whimsy look in his eyes.

"I didn't agree to this to get pissed on," he said vaugely- angrily. "Did you hear all the _shit_ he was talking?"

John chuckled, rolling his eyes and going to exit the dressing room. Elton noticed him stumbling.

"Are you drunk," he asked incredulously.

"Aren't you," John shot back. 

Elton gave a noise of distress and annoyance, falling back into his chair as he bit on his fingernail. He wasn't.

"Not yet," Elton replied. "You never drink in public."

"Nor do I have sex, but, here we are," he said briskly, exiting the room. The words sunk in, and a new wave of anger overtook him.

"Oh, fuck you," he screamed, grabbing his chair and yanking it hard enough to fling into the wall. He yelled another curse, slamming his hands on the counter before he calmed down just a little.

Looking into the mirror, he saw Bernie staring at him. Almost.. fearfully. His eyes held weary resignation, and he gave a small smile.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He'd seen Eltons outbursts once or twice. He knew about what to do.

"Dunno, Bernie! Why the fuck do I even do these anymore? Why do I put up with _his_ shit? It's not fair, I fucking-" he'd pulled his shoe off and chucked it at Bernie. 

Except, not at the wannabe cowboy, but behind him. There was a cry of pain, and Bernie turned to see John clutching the platform to his chest.

"Go the fuck home," Elton shouted at him. "Why did you even come!? Why is that door still open," he laughed out, breathlessly.

John threw the shoe back, and the only reason it didn't hit Elton square in the forehead is because he tripped, forgetting he only wore one shoe. Elton ripped off the other as John slammed the door closed, shrieking as he threw it at the wall.

"You fucking asshole-!"

"Reggie," Bernie yelled over him, holding his hands out in a hopefully calming nature. "Reg.. Calm down, man."

"Don't! Tell me to calm.. down.." He trailed off, groaning as he grabbed at his thinning hair. He sniffed. "Im sorry."

"I know." Bernie went to sit beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles. "I know you're stressed. It's going to be okay, yeah? Im here for you."

Eltons shoulders shook, and he leaned over to hug Bernie tightly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I feel like I'm going mad."

"Don't we all," Bernie laughed out.

Elton joined in, and they sat in comfortable silence for a long while.

"Why did you even come on this show," Bernie asked quietly. "He's _known_ for being a shit interviewer. A shit person, really," he laughed.

"Dunno, Bernie. I wasn't told. Didn't know what show I was getting on. Nobody- well, fuck, John didn't tell me anything about it..Never does, he's always forcing me on these things," Elton said lightly.

Bernie furrowed his eyebrows, scoffing. "Why do you put up with him? You could do better."

"Oh sure. Im a short, fat, balding twenty six year old, I could totally do better," he said sarcastically, then smirked. "He's the first person I'd fallen in love with. Had sex with," he laughed out. His smile faded. "I dunno how to get out. I've given him everything."

"You'll find the right time. Reg- you're not as ugly as you think your are. You're attractive, nice, funny.. Hell, I could go on for hours. You'll find the right person, I know you will. You've just got to keep searching."

Elton hummed, face getting hot. "Thanks, Bernie. Means a lot." Of course, he didn't believe a word of that. But he didn't have to tell Bernie about that.

"Course. You're my brother."


End file.
